It was now week five. Isabella and Liam still went for a walk to the beach everyday to surf and play volleyball. During the week, the beach was not as crowded and the friends that they had acquired for the summer were there each day as well. By now, I was getting quite the tan. Brady wouldn't have liked me getting this much sun, but it was hard not too; as the sun had been intense, and I lackadaisical about my sunscreen use. Nonetheless, my tanned body looked good enough that even I was turning some heads at the beach at nearly sixty years of age.

I was only a summer-and-a-half away, and I would reach that milestone. It didn't bother me; my age that is, as much as it bothered me that I was widowed. I figured in my own mind that it was time to venture out into the brave world again, but I would need to be courted; and it it would have to be someone wonderful...someone special.

We decided to do something a little unorthodox that Wednesday. We went to where we could lie down on the grass in a field where the planes from the San Diego Airport took off. It was close enough that we could feel the wind turbulence and the drag as the planes took off for their destination. While illegal, we were not the only ones who had ever done this, so we figured since we were not the first, we would certainly not be the last. "What was the harm", I thought? At any rate, if one exploded we would be "goners" in a flash; but, with that be the worst and only plausible 1 in 1,000,000 chance, we were all willing to stomach the risk.

After a few hours, we went to Coldstone Creamery. One of our favourites, we had come to love the evenings when ice cream was on the schedule. It was typically three to four nights a week, and no one ever had a complaint if it was a few nights in a row. We continued to add flavour after flavour to our own personal lists. Isabella didn't stray far from her favourites, and Liam even more so; so it seemed that I had once again become the adventurous one. I was now up to twenty-seven for the summer.

We returned to Casa Amor on Sunday. We had spent the better part of a week in Mexico and it was time to return to the beach. Isabella and Liam were exhausted; as was I, and we slept in till nearly noon on Monday. The beach was our safe haven, and it was a beautiful day that Monday. It was the beginning of our fourth week, and I knew that time would begin to fly. On Sunday, we would have just eight weeks left.

We spent every day in the fourth week at the beach. Liam and Isabella had made a few friends that were close to them in age, and they played volleyball each day until time for dinner. In the morning they would try their hands at surfing, and they each had become a master at the "boogie board" or waveboard, as I would call it.

I did cook some as well; as I have always loved being in the kitchen. It was one of Brady and I's pastimes, I guess you might say. His specialty was Italian, and mine French, so we each had something of value to add on any given night. He had even taken the time to teach Bella some things and Liam would someday be a master on the grill. We all loved and adored asparagus, as Brady had showed me the perfect way to cook it. And if I have shared my secret previously, please keep it "under your hat".

The week flew by; as I knew it would, and we spent Saturday and Sunday at home relaxing. While the beach was our playground, Casa Amor was our respite.